


you got a criminal mind

by astano



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 02:57:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3593766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astano/pseuds/astano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve been doing this thing, where one of them commits petty theft — usually the same stunt Clarke pulled in the laundromat, but not always — for a few weeks now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you got a criminal mind

**Author's Note:**

> Because I watched [The Laundromat](https://vimeo.com/7563705) and thought, 'wouldn't this make a cool AU', and then this happened. It's basically an excuse for porn. I'm not at all sorry.

It starts like this:

Octavia grabs Clarke's arm as she rounds the corner of the laundromat and pulls her back into the alley where she's been waiting for the last thirty minutes. "Did you do it?" She asks, and Clarke grins, waving the man's stolen wallet in front of Octavia's face.

"You were right," Clarke says, then laughs giddily. "It was so easy I could hardly believe it."

Octavia grins back at her and then fingers press into Clarke's hips, guiding her back against the wall. Clarke does nothing to stop her. She feels almost high with the way adrenaline is still pumping through her body, and in the wake of it, she wants this — wants Octavia —with a desperation that surprises her.

"Men are so dumb," Octavia says, and Clarke nods, but she's not really paying attention because Octavia presses her mouth against Clarke's neck in between her words, and it’s hot and wet in a way that’s just about perfect. And then Octavia bites down, a little harder than Clarke normally enjoys, and Clarke’s knees buckle, the wallet she’s still holding onto dropping forgotten to the ground.

She comes hard minutes later, panting harshly into Octavia’s mouth and feeling the burn of Octavia’s fingers curled inside of her. It’s better than it’s ever been before, with anyone else and with Octavia, and seeing her own excitement reflected back in Octavia’s eyes, she knows this will not be a one-time event.

Later they find his address on his driver’s licence and mail his wallet back. It was never about the money, after all.

~

Clarke’s mom thinks Octavia is a bad influence. Clarke thinks her mom can go fuck herself, even though she’s probably not wrong. The thing is, Clarke is just as much of a bad influence on Octavia as Octavia is on her.

They’re lying on Clarke’s bed, an open wallet beside them — they’ll mail it back in the morning — when Clarke says, “We could rob a bank.”

Octavia laughs at first, but Clarke just stares her down until she finally realises Clarke’s serious.

They’ve been doing this _thing_ , where one of them commits petty theft — usually the same stunt Clarke pulled in the laundromat, but not always — for a few weeks now. It’s addictive, the thrill of it all, and it’s led to some of the best sex Clarke’s ever had. Granted, given her limited experience that possibly doesn’t mean all that much, but it’s _good_ , and exciting, and spending this much time with Octavia really pisses her mom off, which she’s not going to pretend isn’t also great. And if they’re giving everything back, they’re not really committing any crime, right? But then the last couple of times it’s just not quite been the same, thus their current discussion.

“Don’t you think a bank might be stretching kinda far, Clarke?” Octavia looks almost as surprised as Clarke that she’s being the voice of reason, but she presses on anyway. “Maybe something a little easier than that?”

~

“Holy shit,” Octavia says, then presses hard on the gas as soon as Clarke slams the door behind her. “Holy _fucking_ shit.”

Clarke nods, too breathless to speak. Her heart’s thumping crazily in her chest, and she clutches tightly to the paper bag in her lap that’s filled with tens and twenties. Octavia drives until they’re a few streets away, then pulls up into an abandoned parking lot. She parks the car in the furthest corner and turns off the engine.

It’s hard, in the front seat of the car, but Clarke manages to shimmy out of her jeans and throw her leg over until she’s sitting astride Octavia in the driver’s seat. The parking lot’s dark and no one is going to notice them unless they came right up beside the car, but Clarke’s not going to pretend like the possibility of getting caught isn’t also a turn on.

Clarke’s already wet when Octavia’s fingers work their way between her legs.

Octavia kisses her roughly, licking into Clarke’s mouth with her tongue the same time her fingers press into Clarke’s cunt. Clarke exhales a moan, then grips the back of the seat, using it to help with leverage as she fucks herself down onto Octavia’s fingers.

“This was your best idea yet,” Clarke says, then whimpers when Octavia curls her fingers, the drag of them just about perfect inside of her.

With her free hand, Octavia works up Clarke’s top and frees one of her breasts from her bra. She takes the nipple immediately between her teeth and bites down just hard enough for Clarke to cry out.

It’s only here, like this, that Clarke likes it rough. Rough and desperate, feeling like she might die if Octavia doesn’t add another finger, fuck her a little harder. She asks for it now, pleads for it, and Octavia gives her everything she needs.

“Oh _fuck_.” Clarke whimpers, then louder when Octavia’s palm grinds against her clit. “Octavia— _fuck_.”

Her legs are starting to hurt from the strain of holding herself in place, but she’s so close, her muscles tensing in anticipation. Octavia knows she’s close too, starts murmuring in her ear, telling Clarke how good she looks, how much better she’ll look when she’s coming on her fingers.

It’s more than enough for Clarke and she shudders helplessly through her orgasm, Octavia’s name on her lips.

~

Octavia holds a gun pointed at the head of the owner of a DVD rental place down the street from their school. No one rents DVDs anymore, and they only take a couple hundred dollars.

They mail it back after Clarke discovers the backseat of Octavia’s car is more than big enough for her to get on her knees and press her mouth between Octavia’s legs. It takes no time at all for Octavia to arch into her mouth, frantic with her orgasm, and the taste and smell of her lingers as Clarke waits in line at the post office. She smiles the entire time.

~

Two months later, it ends like this:

“Maybe we really should rob a bank.”

When Octavia says it, Clarke doesn’t at all think to protest. Later, stumbling outside with hands cuffed securely behind her back, she realises protesting would have been the only sensible thing to have done.

She doesn’t think telling them they were going to give the money back is going to help in any way at all.


End file.
